


the war is over (we are beginning)

by astrolesbian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, basically steve comes back from the past and things are normal, i'm gay and right. everyone else shut up please, sam is still cap, y'all know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 22:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrolesbian/pseuds/astrolesbian
Summary: The time between Steve agreeing he’d drop off the Stones and when he eventually got back was a pretty miserable hour.(Afterwards was pretty great, though.)





	the war is over (we are beginning)

**Author's Note:**

> hi. steve rogers would not fuck off to the past when the future has gay rights. thank you for your time
> 
> also i don't know why scott is here i just like him i think he's neat

The time between Steve agreeing he’d drop off the Stones and when he eventually got back was a pretty miserable hour.

Sam had been baffled by the timing thing, at first. Surely, with something as miraculous as time travel, Steve should be back within minutes. Bucky’d seemed to think so, too, if his grim expression was any indicator. But Scott had insisted they leave a gap between Steve leaving and him getting back. “Don’t want you running into yourself,” he’d explained. “That’d be a disaster. A disaster!”

So now they were all standing around, waiting. Bucky was all shifty, looking from direction to direction down the road; he’d been like that all morning. He’d been like that for the past few days, if Sam was being honest. Ever since they’d all gotten back and the words _time travel_ had been thrown around a couple times, it was like any affability he’d once had had been shut off.

Steve had been worried, Sam could tell, and he’d seen them talking quietly a couple times — or, rather, he’d seen Steve talking quietly and Bucky giving him tense answers that hadn’t given Steve much peace of mind. But Steve had always been good at putting stuff aside and getting the job done, so he’d done it, and Sam had decided to leave questioning them both until the world wasn’t ending.

He put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Chill,” he said.

Bucky glared at him in that ever-charming way of his, amd said nothing, just crossed his arms tighter over his chest and tried to burn holes into a nearby stop sign with his eyes.

“Any minute now,” Scott said, giving them both an anxious look.

Sam sat down on a nearby bench. No sense standing on ceremony; it was only Steve, after all.

And then Steve returned, drenched in color for a second from the portal, without the Stones and looking no worse for wear for his troubles. He grinned at them, a little sheepish, and stuck his hands in his pockets. “So. Dinner? Pizza? I’m starving.”

“You better be paying,” Sam told him, and was about to stand when Bucky crossed the street and punched him, hard, in the shoulder.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asked.

Steve blinked at him, completely lost for words. “Buck, what—”

“Why didn’t you _stay?_ ” Bucky shouted. “You dumb fuckin’—”

“What the _hell,_ ” Steve said, still bewildered. Scott flicked his eyes back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match.

“You could’ve gone _back,_ you idiot,” Bucky said, and Sam sat forward, because he sounded genuinely upset, which meant this wasn’t some kind of misplaced attempt at joking around or some way to blow out a lot of hot air or any other number of weird possibilities. His anger was only barely masking hurt. Steve blinked and took a step forward, softening.

“Why the hell would I—”

“You’re fucking stuck here!” Bucky said. “I’m here by natural causes, I lived all that time, or — I mean — most of it, anyway. But you got it all stolen, Steve, you should be _there_ and you’re _here_ and you should’ve — you should’ve gone back!”

Steve just stared at him.

“You could’ve got married,” Bucky said, then, softer, more defeated, “married Agent Carter or something, you and her would’ve been—”

“Buck,” Steve said. “What the hell. Do you _want_ me to go back?” He looked crushed by this. Scott looked at Sam and Sam shrugged, like, _I dunno, man, they’re always kinda like this._ Scott shrugged back and went back to watching.

“I’m not saying I _want_ it, you dumbass,” Bucky snapped, “but you _could,_ that’s all, and you _should,_ you deserve it, the — the — the _afterwards,_ y’know? The end of the war when you’re a hero and you get to go home, back to Brooklyn, you never got to have that! And you _could,_ now, and any sane person would’ve just gone and done it, fuckin’ _time travel,_ Jesus—”

“Yeah,” Steve interrupts, “because I sure want to go back to _that_ Brooklyn without you, because me spending all my fuckin’ time in the future chasing _you_ down really just screams ‘I want to go back to 1945,’ huh? And do what, be a war hero? Get married? Christ alive, you got any other smart ideas?”

Bucky’s mouth had stopped moving at around the word _huh_ and now hung open, like a fish. Sam would’ve laughed at him any other day, but the baffled look was accompanied with a slow, burning joy that spread over his face like the sun rising. He looked ten years younger, eager and alive. The open mouth was slowly turning into a grin.

“Wait,” he said, “wait, you don’t?”

“‘Course I don’t,” Steve said.

“But you kept saying you wanted it to be done.” Bucky had his hands on Steve’s elbows, now, and he looked overwhelmed, half breathless with joy. “You kept saying you’d give anything to go home.”

“Yeah, home with _you,”_ Steve said. “Done with all this. Done with being Captain America. But home’s always with you, you idiot, it’s here.” He gestured between them. “Or in Wakanda with your stupid goats, or in Brooklyn, wherever. As long as it’s us.” Steve pressed his palms to the sides of Bucky’s face. “To the end of the line, right? I’m sure as hell not jumpin’ off now.”

Bucky’s face did the open-mouthed-joyful thing again. “I just thought—” he said, and then shut his mouth and shook his head. “Jesus. I’ve been trying to psych myself up for it all day.”

“For,” Steve said.

“For you leaving,” Bucky said. “For how much that was gonna wreck me.”

“I’ll be here ‘til you tell me to screw off,” Steve said, so gently that Sam had to smile and look away.

And Bucky kissed him. Steve’s eyes went comically wide for a second — _Idiots,_ Sam thought fondly, they were both such dense fucking idiots, in what universe did a display like that mean _friends?_ — but then his eyes closed and the kiss went on a moment longer before they both pulled back, eyes wet.

“Okay,” Steve said, a little dazed, and then looked over at Sam and Scott.

Scott was whistling and studying the clouds. Sam gave him a thumbs up.

“Sorry,” Steve said.

“Do your thing, it’s cool,” Scott said.

“‘Bout time,” Sam said. Steve blushed, which meant that his ears and neck both went bright red, which was, as always, hilarious.

Bucky did not apologize, but as he pulled back from Steve, the happiness lingered on his face like he was covered in sunlight.

“So,” Scott said, finally looking away from the sky, “did I hear you say no more Captain America, or . . ?”

“Shit,” Steve said, and let go of Bucky’s hand to take the shield off his back. “Shit, I was gonna make a big deal about it, y’know, give it its moment, but.” He took a deep breath and took a few steps closer. “I don’t wanna do this anymore, the fighting, all the time. I wanna find out what else I’m good at and try to — try to like living for once, not just push through it. And, Sam, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. You’ve got killer instincts, you’re smart, you’re strong, and you can fly, and that seems like a pretty good recipe to me, so — would you carry it?”

Sam looked at the shield, red white and blue, and glittering in the sun. The colors he and Riley had fought in the name of, the colors he kept following even when the promise didn’t live up to the reality. He thought of meeting Steve and following him, too, seeing the glint of that shield on a back in front of him for all these years. He thought of what it had meant to know that there were still people in the world that tried to fight for justice, after everything.

“I’ll need to paint the wings to match,” he said, and Steve burst out laughing.

Bucky and Scott did, too. Steve handed him the shield and it felt light in his hands, not heavy with meaning like he’d half-expected. He grinned up at Steve, who smiled back.

“When Dr. Erskine told me he wanted me to have the serum he told me it was because of a lot of things,” Steve said. This was clearly something he’d thought hard about, something he wanted to say, so Sam bit back his thanks for a minute and let him say it. “He said because I was weak, I knew how to keep going. How to push through things that would make other people stop because I’d been pushing through so long. And he said I knew compassion, because of all that. He said the person who got the serum couldn’t be a perfect soldier, he had to be a good man.” He nodded, mostly to himself. “I don’t think you’re weak, Sam, but I know you know compassion. And I couldn’t think of a better man to carry this old thing.”

“You gotta let me hug you after all that, man,” Sam said, and abandoned the shield on the bench to do so. Steve laughed and hugged him back with all of his strength, which was a lot, and then were both a little teary when they parted.

Scott patted them both on the shoulder. “Wow,” he said. “Wow! All this — wow! So much just happened. I can’t wait to tell Cassie. She’s gonna go apeshit. Wow! Okay! Pizza?”

“Pizza,” Steve agreed, reaching back to take Bucky’s hand. “And then we can tell everyone else about Sam’s promotion.” His smile was mischievous.

“Hey, I was never a real captain in the Air Force,” Sam remembered.

Steve grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “I don’t think it matters,” he said. “When I was in the army, neither was I.”


End file.
